“I don’t know if I’m ready for that,” I huffed. “Not from you, at least. But I’m glad I won’t be in this alone.”
“We’re not going anywhere.” Briar released me, her eyes dipping to the golden lines snaking above the neckline of my nightdress. “I spotted a nice patch of land just outside the city. Perfect for a farmhouse.”
I laughed, in my mind already imagining the house she’d build—whimsical and colorful, a garden of every hue of the rainbow, just like the cabin we were raised in.
“It’s so good to see you awake,” I whispered, releasing her to rub a lock of her crimson hair between my fingers.
“It’s all she can seem to do now,” Maez said, stepping beside Briar and slinging her arm over her shoulders.
Briar cut Maez a look. “I’ve slept plenty the last few weeks, thank you.”
I could tell this was an ongoing point of contention between them. Shaking her head, Briar smirked and leaned into her mate.
Maez looked at me, her eyes softening. “I’m so sorry about your friend.”
I looked between her and Briar, all at once remembering the battle in the grand hall.
I whirled to Grae, my chest tightening. “Malou?”
He nodded. The sound of her head cracking on stone, the vision of her lifeless body . . . they’d live in me always. The joy of reuniting with Briar instantly turned to sorrow as tears welled in my eyes. She had died helping me.
“The others?”
“They’re okay. Well, all except Mina.”
Tears started falling as I thought of losing not only my friend, but practically feeling her sister’s pain. Grae circled his arm around my waist and pulled me back to sit on the bed beside him. “She’s surrounded by those who love her. She’ll heal.” I looked at him, uncertain. “She will. We all will. When you made your wish, you filled with this bright golden light and then it snapped, shattering out into millions of pieces. Any Rooks left in doubt of your sovereignty laid down their weapons then and there. Your wish proved you were meant to lead Olmdere.”
“I may have been saved in order to rule, but not alone.” I shook my head, looking to Maez and Briar. “No one should have complete power like that. I will not be like Sawyn. I will not be above anyone else.”
“Sa-wyn,” Briar tossed the words in her mind. Recognition dawning on her face.
I huffed. “There’s so much I need to tell you.”
With each step out toward the fjords, my heart sank. I clutched the bouquet of the last summer flowers tighter. Navin sang a deep, slow song as Ora accompanied him, playing Malou’s fiddle. Mina knelt at the edge of the cliff, holding the urn of her twin’s ashes.
We listened to Malou’s song carry out over the misty air as her ashes scattered on the breeze. Her song was lively and mischievous, sharp yet warm, just as she had been. And it felt like the most fitting way to say goodbye to her—listening to her song played on her own instrument, her ashes swirling on the currents as if dancing to the tune.
Mina’s shoulders drooped as she hung her head and crumpled around the empty urn. Hector was the first to reach her, kneeling beside Mina and taking her hand. That tenderness coming from him, of all people, made my tears fall heavier. He’d been the most wary of humans, but I knew in that moment he didn’t think of anything but his fallen friend. We weren’t the same people we’d been weeks ago on that first day in the wagon together. Little had we known we were the beginnings of the Golden Court.
Briar shuffled to my side and wrapped her arm around me. I dropped my head onto her shoulder, crushing the flowers in my hand against her back. Watching someone mourn their twin . . . it was a fate I had narrowly avoided myself.
Days had passed and still the sight of her dropping to the stairs of the dais jolted me awake at night. Grae would hold me through the nightmares with his calm, steady presence. I didn’t know how long it would be before the panic would ease, but I had faith it would. There was so much to do now, but so many more reasons to do it.
I gave my sister one last squeeze and turned to the sheer drop. Grae followed a step beside me as I reached the edge and knelt. He dropped to his knees beside me as, one by one, the rest of the group did the same. Dozens of mourners lined the ledge, many former Galen den’ Mora musicians staying to pay their respects.
As Ora came to kneel, the group began to sing. The human prayer carried on the wind, the chorus of voices eddying along the briny breeze. I didn’t know the words, but I hummed along, as did Grae. The need to mourn Malou with music felt the only way. A hot tear slipped down my cheek. I knew I’d feel the responsibility for her passing for the rest of my life. It lit a fire in my veins to protect the humans of my kingdom, to not have to carry the deaths of any more of them on my shoulders than I already did. I’d live to fulfill my own dying wish: May the humans of Olmdere thrive. Every day, I pledged to make good on that promise, and Mina was planning on sticking around to make sure I did.
The final notes of the song died on the wind, and Mina’s fingers tightened around Malou’s flame badge. Hector pulled her into his shoulder, dropping his lips to the crown of her head.
I sniffed and dropped my bouquet over the edge, whispering my goodbye to Malou before rising. Most of the mourners drifted back through the forest toward the capital, but our little group remained. Oxen lowed as Galen den’ Mora sat proudly on the hillside, the golden forest lit by the setting sun behind it. Ora dallied at the back of the wagon, hugging Sadie.
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” I asked Ora one last time.
Ora smiled, shaking their head. “I’ll always be a part of your court, love, no matter how far I roam. But this music must be shared, you know? And there are so many who need us,” they said, pointing to the wagon.
Sorrow pierced through me, though I knew this day would come. Galen den’ Mora wasn’t meant to stay in one place. It would continue to travel as it had always done, but I still didn’t want to say goodbye.
The group clustered together, exchanging hugs and farewells, apart from Mina and Hector, who still knelt on the cliff’s edge.
I spotted Navin at the edge of the clearing, wringing his hands together as he watched us. His eyes scanning the group for Sadie as he ambled over. Lifting his hand, he took a step toward her and she turned away, following the rest of the mourners into the forest. Navin’s hand hovered in the air as if he could reach through time and space to pull her back to him, but he didn’t follow.